Undone
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: They were sent on a scouting mission after Megatron. Now they're trapped in Sector Seven. But with signs of Autobots showing up, maybe things aren't so bad after all. M for language and violence. Eventual Jazz/OC and Ironhide/OC. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

The organics hands slid along their small forms, poking prodding, pulling them apart piece by piece before putting them back together in some twisted version of a jigsaw puzzle.

The two femmes couldn't move, couldn't speak out against what these twisted scientists were doing to them out of their own ignorance, trapped in paralysis.

**::I'm gonna offline them all!:: -Saberline**

Her companion and partner whimpered through the internal comm-link as one scientist pried off a particularly sensitive piece of her chassis armor, unable to reply for several breems following. Saberline pushed along comfort through their comm-link, though she knew it wouldn't help the other femme much unless they had an actual bond of some kind.

**::You'll have to get past me first, Saberline.:: -Crosswire**

Saberline could hear the undercurrent of simmering anger, anger that had been slowly bubbling for years as they were slowly and unknowingly tortured into insanity.

Saberline softly keened a reply to Crosswire, her amber optics dull as something was neatly yanked from in between her armoring plates. Pain warnings flashed across her HUD, followed by the usual energon levels and other such things that she'd long since learned to ignore.

**::I won't stop you. But in that case, if **_**he**_** ever onlines, I'm having a go at taking out his optics. And his interfacing parts.:: -Saberline**

Crosswire vented out a soft laugh, vocalizer still damaged from the last incautious fingers that had been digging around the delicate machinery. **::Whatever you say, Saber.::**

**-;-**

When they were finally brought back from the 'interrogation rooms', as they were less than affectionately called, Saberline and Crosswire were strung back up like prisoners from the pathetically weak organic metals. Though they supposed that they were much luckier than old Megatron, who was held in place by much more mechanical devices than they could possibly name right beside them. Well, technically, anyway. The femmes were much smaller than the huge former Lord Protector, being cassettes, so they were barely higher than his pedes.

Saberline was the larger of the two femmes, but not by much. Her total height, when completely extended, was just barely five foot three. But what she lacked in height she made up for in armor. Her shoulders were broad, made to take heavy blows in battle, and the only dull thing about her was her armor. Everything else was sharp. Sharp amber optics, sharp dentas, sharp personality. All in all, she looked like an angry humanoid feline.

Crosswire, on the other hand, was small and slender. She barely made it to four foot seven, and even then she was pushing it. Her optics weren't much softer than Saberline's, but everything else about her seemed to scream helpless. Of course, that was exactly what she wanted people to think. Being an espionage femme, she was built to look innocent so that there wouldn't be much suspicion cast onto her should a mission fail. Her armor was thinner, sleeker, and more flexible than Saberline's, and she was more of a cyberkitten than a cybercat in comparison between the two cassettes.

**::Do you think we'll ever get back to our Carriers?:: -Crosswire**

**::What kind of question is that? Of course we will.:: -Saberline**

**::But we haven't felt them in vorns! How are we supposed to know if they're even online?:: -Crosswire**

**::I just know.:: **Saberline retorted, though there was a small quaver to the words. Crosswire knew that her partner was just as scared about knowing if their Carriers were still online. If they weren't…it would spell out disaster in capital letters.

Cassettes needed their Carriers in order to share their data and help whoever their Carrier was in missions and such. Crosswire's Carrier, an espionage agent, and Saberline's Carrier, a warrior, had both sent out their cassettes after Megatron after the Allspark had been sent off of Cybertron with the hopes that they would be able to track the femmes' signals to wherever Megatron had gone off too.

There had really only been one hitch. Well, two.

And that had been the fact that one; Megatron wasn't actually as dumb as he looked, and had captured both femmes right before crashing onto Earth. Two; Sector Seven had later pried them off of Megatron's offline form and had immediately begun fragging around with their internal mechanisms. The first to get picked off was their general comm-links, and then their Carrier/Cassette bonds. Neither were really sure how that had managed to work out, but in the end, all they had were their internal and private comm-links.

To put it mildly, they were slagged.

**::I hope they are…:: -Crosswire**

**::So do I, Wire. So do I.:: -Saberline**

**-;-**

It was freezing when the two onlined from a short recharge, and Saberline was immediately put into a bad mood by the temperature. The rougher femme didn't really do so well in the cooler temperatures, preferring to stick with the warm temperatures.

Crosswire, on the other servo didn't really care. She was perfectly fine with the colder temperatures as long as she could still function, though she did like the warmer temperatures that she had gotten used to over the last vorn of being stuck under this dam. Such an odd language that these organics had created for themselves.

**::Why is it so fragging **_**cold**_** in here?:: **Saberline snapped irritably, glaring at the organics scurrying by. **::I don't like cold! I like warm!:: **

Crosswire vented lightly, knowing that nothing good was going to come from Saberline working herself into a good old fashioned temper tantrum.

**::Saber, calm down.:: -Crosswire**

**::Calm down? CALM DOWN? You want me to CALM THE FRAG **_**DOWN**_**?:: -Saberline**

**::Yes.:: **Crosswire replied calmly. **::You'll overheat your systems again and there's not going to be anything I can do about it if you do.::**

Just like that, Saberline deflated. **::Sorry.::**

**::I know.:: -Crosswire**

**::But I'm still cold.:: -Saberline**

Yes, Crosswire could see exactly how this solar cycle was going to go. Saberline was going to be wondering why the frag it was so cold, whine about it for several breems, recharge for another several breems, and then whine some more.

Venting, the smaller cassette settled down for a short recharge, hoping that when she onlined her optics again that she would no longer be in this Pit spawned house of horrors.


	2. Chapter 2

**::Is it just me, or is that scientist looking at us again?:: -Saberline**

Crosswire unshuttered an optic to glance over at the same scientist who had been staring at them for the last several breems.

**::Not just you. He's**__**looking at us.:: -Crosswire **

**::Fraggers. When I get out of this slag I'm going to squish them.:: -Saberline**

**::Agreed. Though I think we've been over this before.:: -Crosswire**

The two small femmes went back to looking like they couldn't move; which they couldn't. But they were online. The organics, for some reason, hadn't figured out that the two femmes were online. This, in Saberline's optics, just proved how unintelligent they were in comparison to Cybertronians.

**::Hey Saber…wanna see if we can creep out that organic mech over by the door again?:: -Crosswire**

**::You're on, Wire.:: -Saberline**

Truly, it wasn't all that hard to scare off the scientists. All the femmes had to do was quickly unshutter their optics and then reshutter them. It always got the organics attention, and it was always amusing to see the organics try and explain it to their colleagues. Most of the time because Saberline always picked the same three organic mechs to use the trick on.

The both of them quickly unshuttered their optics, but a sudden screech of a Cybertronian in pain caught their attention.

**::Is that what I think it is, or did I finally go insane?:: -Saberline**

**::You've always been insane…but yes, I heard it too.:: -Crosswire**

**::Does that mean you're insane too?:: -Saberline**

Crosswire vented, about to retort, but then the large doors slid open, revealing a metal cart of some kind. And on the cart lay a limp yellow mech.

**::That's a youngling.:: -Saberline**

**::Couldn't tell.:: **Crosswire shot back sarcastically, optics riveted on the youngling. He was making the most pitiful keens that she had ever picked up on her audials, and her spark pulsed unpleasantly.

**::It's one thing to go after Megatron and the older Cybertronians. It's another to attack innocent younglings.:: **Saberline hissed, voicing what Crosswire was thinking. **::How could this race be so primitive? Even the Decepticons didn't needlessly murder younglings after all of the attacks.::**

**::Because by then there were few femmes and even fewer creations.:: **Crosswire replied dryly. **::And he needed soldiers.::**

**::But still.:: **Saberline protested.

Crosswire didn't reply, sending out an inquiring ping to the new Cybertronian. It was more a test than anything. Testing if the new arrival was an Autobot or not, seeing if her other private comm-links were functioning.

The youngling shifted, blue optics flickering as an answering ping replied to her own. Locking onto her own, she sent out another ping, along with a small amount of comfort. Her Femme Creator programming was kicking in, and having a youngling in close proximity wasn't helping the ghost pangs that she felt as she thought about the sparkling she had left back on Cybertron in the care of her Carrier.

**::Hello, little one. Who are you?:: -Crosswire**

**::Bumblebee. Who are you?:: -Bumblebee**

**::My designation is Crosswire. My femme partner is Saberline.:: -Crosswire**

**::Where am I?:: -Bumblebee**

Crosswire shuddered as they finished moving the poor youngling over towards a door that she knew all too well. She heard static over the line as a reply as she sent her next comm, and she wondered if the youngling had even received it, judging by the neutral expression that the mech had taken as his battle mask snapped back into place.

**::Hoover Dam. Headquarters to Sector Seven.:: -Crosswire**

The organics shoved the cart through the doors, and she visibly flinched as the cold hit her from the chemicals they were using to keep them all still, supposedly in stasis. Saberline hated the chemicals. They were literally liquid ice, and they hurt all the sensitive armor areas that were now missing pieces. Crosswire, again, didn't really actually care so long as she could still function. But it didn't mean that she liked the cold.

**::-ime to Crosswire. Come in, Crosswire.:: -Saberline**

**::What?:: -Crosswire**

**::Well, you just completely went glitch on me.:: -Saberline**

**::Pardon me? I was communicating with the youngling!:: -Crosswire**

**::You can use your comm-link and you didn't tell me?:: -Saberline**

**::Well, considering that I only just realized that I can…and it wasn't a public comm. Those are well and slagged. It was a private comm. You know, like I've been stuck using with you for the last vorn.:: -Crosswire**

**::Oh.:: -Saberline**

Their conversation over the link was interrupted by the sound of heavy machinery starting up, closely followed by a high whine of terror. Crosswire felt her damaged frame attempt to move, but was unable to. She needed to get to the mechling, needed to comfort him, needed to keep him close to her spark-

**::CROSSWIRE! FOCUS!:: -Saberline**

Crosswire's engine whined, her optics pleading as she flicked them over to meet Saberline's own. **::I can't help it! I'm a Femme Creator! My programming-:: -Crosswire**

**::Your programming is out of control.:: **Saberline snapped. **::How I managed to get matched with you in the first place is something I'll forever wonder. You're too emotional.:: **

It was not an unfamiliar argument, per say. But Saberline only knew that Crosswire had a sparkling. She didn't have the same programming that she did, considering that she was not a Creator. In fact, Saberline had had the data code completely wiped from her processor before she had even become a warrior cassette. Her entire existence was for the thrill of battle and the pumping of energon through her lines. That was her sole purpose in this life.

Crosswire was the gentler of the two, and she knew it. Even though her espionage title was something that most scoffed at, she had seen her fair share of battle as well. The fact that she had a sparkling only made her appreciate the fact that being online was something to be treasured each and every orn.

**::Having the ability to connect with others is what I'm a part of.:: **she retorted, feeling her neck plating raise in irritation. **::I am more than a soldier in this war. I am a Creator. Just because you don't have the programming doesn't mean you should underestimate my skills in this war.::**

There was something akin to a snarl that was her only reply, and then Saberline fell silent. Crosswire knew that she would be stewing about this for a while, because she had been paired with the temperamental femme for several vorns. She had picked up on some of the smaller traits that Saberline exhibited when she felt threatened or angry. And this one screamed that she was feeling very threatened by Crosswire's more forward attitude.

Huffing silently to herself, Crosswire settled herself into the back of her mind and fell back into recharge, wondering what the arrival of the youngling meant for them.


	3. Chapter 3

**::Comm-link::**

"_Cybertronian"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

It was simply one of those things that they couldn't quite avoid.

Crosswire onlined her optics wearily to note that she and Saberline were being shifted from their original positions on their delicate perches. Shuttering them again, she onlined them once more, feeling much more alert the second time around.

Saberline was still in recharge, and Crosswire knew that no amount of urging over their comm-link would wake the irritable femme. So, instead, she simply waited out the inevitable that awaited she and her partner behind those slagged doors.

The only positive that she could see happening would be getting to see the youngling once again.

**-;-**

**::Slagging- What did I miss?:: -Saberline**

**::Not much, actually. They're just getting started.:: -Crosswire**

**::Fragging, scrapheap worthy, no good sons of-:: **Saberline started, getting herself revved up for the usual rant of the orn. Crosswire had long since learned the rather handy trick of muting the comm-link when Saberline got like this, so there really weren't any issues other than knowing when the femme was done.

Instead, the gentler femme turned her attentions away, focusing on the motionless youngling that lay mere feet away from her. He had long since fallen silent from the blasts of electricity pulsing through his lines, and eventually the poor thing had fallen into stasis.

**::- awn!:: -Saberline**

**::Are you done for now?:: **Crosswire drawled, though she internally snapped at the organic prying away at her armour. She really didn't like these slaggers touching those! **::Because at this moment in time, there are far more pressing things at hand.:: **

**::Like what?:: **Saberline growled back. **::Like what? What could possibly be more important than cursing out these blasted scrapheaps!::**

**::Focusing on not offlining?:: **Crosswire offered tentatively. There was a moment of silence, and then came the grudging acknowledgement that she had guessed correctly.

The two femmes mentally held one another up as the torture that they had been subjected to for a good vorn or so continued, this time in the same room as a glimmer of hope. If this youngling was a part of the war, it meant that he was important to the Autobot cause. And if Crosswire's theory was correct, then backup wouldn't be far behind. Her spark pulsed with the sudden flare of hope that dared become a reality.

A small whine from said youngling's engines had Crosswire coming back to reality. Blue optics met her own, and she received a ping moments later.

**::What are they doing to you?:: -Bumblebee**

Saberline mentally snarled something that Crosswire wouldn't even repeat to a Decepticon, including several references to glitch mice and the Pit.

**::Torture, though I'm sure they don't see it as such.:: -Crosswire**

There was a small shift as the youngling moved against the table, optics widening as the meaning of the cassettes words settled onto his shoulders and into his processor, and the mechs wide blue optics shuttered very suddenly.

**::Is Prime on this planet?:: **Crosswire felt the need to ask. She had to know; the thought of not knowing if her Carrier was still online or not was very nearly killing her, and she wanted to hear that Optimus Prime was on this planet with reinforcements. That they were coming to help them. **::Is he coming here?:: **

**::I don't know.:: -Bumblebee**

It was the way that the words were spoken that told her that perhaps the faith she had in the Autobots was a bit too high.

**::So we're on our own then.:: -Crosswire**

**::I never said he wasn't on this planet. Just that I don't know if he's coming to get me. Us.:: **Bumblebee protested indignantly, though he deflated moments later.

**::Crosswire…:: -Saberline**

**::Sorry. The youngling says that the Prime is on this planet, though whether or not he's coming here is something that neither of us know.:: -Crosswire**

**::Prime is here? On this planet?:: **Saberline immediately brightened. **::The youngling is an Autobot then.::**

**::Obviously. If the optics and the innocent factor weren't enough of a clue, that is.:: **Crosswire snorted.

As if sensing that something was going on with the three robots, the scientists got back to work. Bumblebee was pinned down to the table, bright sparks of what appeared to be lightning snapping into his metal frame and tearing the pathetic screams from his vocalizer.

Saberline was moved away from Crosswire, and the femme offlined her optics. She didn't want to see the pain that the other cassette was going through. Pit, she didn't even want to see the pain that she herself was going through. But it wasn't like she could do a lot about it, considering that it was her frame that was being pulled and pried apart before being put back together again.

Venting softly to herself, Crosswire forced herself into stasis, not wanting to be online for what was to come.

**-;-**

It was chaos.

Sirens blared, lights flashing above, and Crosswire was vaguely aware of Saberline shaking her with a firm servo.

Firm servo?

Onlining her optics, she bolted from her position, staggering at the sudden weight on her damaged shin struts.

**::What's going on?:: **she threw out, disoriented, wondering how she was suddenly able to move and online her systems without it being the fault of the scientists that had been doing so for her for years.

**::Organics came and got the youngling- said something about the Allspark. We've got to go after that youngling.:: **Saberline snapped, her visor slipping over her optics, cracks coating the once sleek surface. **::At the very least, we have to ensure that it gets to the Prime.::**

**::Understood.:: **Crosswire replied as she onlined her battle protocols. At the moment, Saberline was her commanding officer, and as such, she was to take orders from the other femme and her alone. **::Am I to scout ahead?::**

**::No need. We just need to get out of here.:: **Saberline nodded curtly.

It was right about then that Crosswire realized that red stained the walls and the floors of the room, and she realized that something had obviously gone down while she was offline. However, she didn't want to push the femme by asking what had happened, so she slid her own visor back down, immediately feeling much more at home. The scientists had pried it loose and had been unable to fully repair it afterwards, but at the moment, the espionage femme was simply grateful that it was even functioning.

**::Move out.:: -Saberline**

**-;-**

Now, something that neither femme realized at the time was that they weren't the only ones who had onlined because of the chaos. There was another mech, a much larger, more dangerous mech, who had been onlined as well.

Frenzy at the time had no idea that there were two other cassettes present in the dam. He had simply been charged with finding and bringing Lord Megatron back to the Decepticon cause by his Carrier, however reluctant the black and white mech had been.

And Saberline and Crosswire had no idea that there was another cassette in the dam, and barely paid any heed to the dim pinging in the back of their processors as their extremely limited scanners picked up on their kins signal.

Crosswire loped next to Saberline through the base, ignoring the surprised shouts of the organics around them. Saberline had picked up the scent of the youngling and its organics, and she was hunting them down. They would retrieve the Allspark as they had been told, and they would ensure that it made it back to the Prime.

Crosswire stumbled momentarily before continuing on, Saberline only sending the other femme a sideways glance as she ran.

And then there was a wave of something that washed over both femmes and created an odd tingle in their systems for several seconds before Crosswire was pulled forward with a weak yelp of surprise.

**-;-**

Now Bumblebee, he had seen a great many things in his short life. He had seen war, seen his comrades fall to the cruel blades of the foe, faced Megatron _himself_…

But two tiny flying femmes was a whole new league for him.

Samuel and Mikaela screamed and ducked for cover as two silver blurs soared through the air and landed against the Allspark that the yellow scout had just placed his servos upon. A moment later, he realized that they were the two femmes that he had been sharing a room with for the last night and a half.

One growled lowly before spewing out a handful of Cybertronian curses that nearly had the poor youngling running for cover, while the other, the one that had attempted to contact him, let out a venting groan.

"_That is the last fragging time! You hear me!? I am done with this fragging scrapheap of a planet! I am done with you, and these slagging organics and their Pit spawned tendencies!" _the larger femme snapped in Cybertronian, attempting to pry herself off of the relic she was seemingly magnetized to.

The smaller femme shivered against the Allspark suddenly, then keened as sparks emitted from her vocalizer as it suddenly began repairing itself. In fact, her entire frame was beginning to repair itself on its own, along with her companion. Their dented and generally ruined armour smoothed over, optics brightened through visors and within moments the two small femmes were back to being in their original shiny and preened selves. Well, other than the fact that they were still stuck to the Allspark, but…

The smaller femme, Crosswire, if he recalled correctly, let out a horrendous shriek of pain at the same time that the other femme, Saberline, did the same. The organics around Bumblebee's pedes scattered, hands trying to protect their pitifully weak audio receptors from breaking from the sound.

Crosswire knew as soon as all of her systems came online that her Carrier and her sparkling were offline. The tear in her spark was immediate and excruciating, and beside her, she could hear Saberline's own misery as her systems came online as well.

"_Gonegonegone…" _Saberline wailed in Cybertronian. Crosswire keened, pulling her limbs away from the Allspark, seeking something that would ease her pain.

"_Youngling. Seeking youngling." _She chanted to herself, lunging at the much larger mech that was watching the events with no amount of shock. _"Bond. Carrier. Youngling. Seek." _

She felt Saberline's curiosity at her actions, but it was dulled by the pain pulsing through her lines. She felt as though her spark was being torn in two, felt desperation take over as her programming tried to find the bonds that she had once had.

Dragging herself along the youngling's frame, she found an indent just under his shoulder and shifted, looking at it from all angles before sliding her smaller form into the space, forcing a temporary Carrier bond through to the youngling. Crosswire knew full well that she and the youngling weren't compatible as Carrier/Cassette, but a temporary bond would help with some of the pain that she was feeling.

Saberline seemed to have thought the same thing, and a moment later, there was a startled whine from the youngling, followed by the organics panicked chittering.

**::We're not here to hurt you.:: **Crosswire murmured over a private comm-link to the youngling. **::Only to prevent ourselves from offlining and fulfilling our mission.::**

"_Warm. Safe." _Saberline crooned from her place below Crosswire. By the sounds of things, she had settled herself into the youngling's hip.

**::What?:: **Bumblebee sounded panicked. Honestly, Crosswire couldn't blame him. Venting, the small femme separated herself from her temporary host, falling to the ground with a quiet _thump. _Now that all of her systems were online, she took in her statistics and offlined several different programs that were only going to distract her for the next orn. Her Creator programming went first, closely followed by her dulled Carrier/Cassette programming. However, she quickly searched the connection that she discovered was the Internet and downloaded the language of this planet that she thought suitable considering the location that she was in.

"Saberline and myself were tasked many, many vorns ago to follow Megatron and seek out the Allspark location and send coordinates to our Carriers so that the Prime would be able to retrieve it as soon as possible. However, considering that we are both cassettes, Megatron picked up our signal despite our best efforts and captured the both of us just before landing upon this planet. We were almost immediately sent into stasis, but woke when we were found by Sector Seven." Crosswire began tentatively, familiarizing herself with the foreign language and quickly finding that it wasn't all that difficult to grasp.

"Since then, we have been unable to send the coordinates, trapped here in a paralysis, though how the organics have not realized that we were online is something incomprehensible."

"Hey!" came a protest from one of the organics. Crosswire turned, her smaller frame probably not appearing all that intimidating to the mech, but appearances could be deceiving.

**::NO.:: **Bumblebee snarled over the comm-link. The order was very clear, but Crosswire had no intentions of going near the youngling. It was the much older organic next to him that her optics had set sights on.

"You."

Saberline separated from Bumblebee at the tone, landing in a very cat-like position on the ground as well. Her optics glittered dangerously as she recognized the very same organic mech who had been responsible for their pain for the last half vorn.

Everything was very confusing for the organics. What the hell was going on? What was with these two tiny little robots? Were they the versions of kids to them or something? Sam, at this point, was wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into by buying the damn Camaro.

Saberline stalked towards the organic mech, fully intent on murdering him, when Crosswire stiffened next to her.

"Megatron's online." She stated quite calmly.

Saberline paused.

"_I'M GONNA RIP OFF HIS INTERFACING PORT AND SHOVE IT DOWN HIS THROAT! I'LL OFFLINE THAT SLAGGER! I'LL CLAW OUT HIS OPTICS! I'LL-"_

Crosswire blinked her optics with a small smirk crossing her faceplates as Saberline tore off down the hall again, continuing her threats.

"_I will meet with you soon." _She promised the youngling, who at this point was looking quite frustrated with all the random events that were continuously being thrown his way. _"And then I will explain."_

With that, she followed Saberline, hoping that her tentative friend wouldn't be doing anything too reckless.

**-;-**

Saberline clawed her way up the huge mechs leg, easily dodging the blows that were meant to crush her. Her denta were bared in a savage grin, amber optics bright with the lust for energon.

**::Saberline, where the frag- oh slag.:: **Crosswire said across the comm-link.

Megatron barely looked over at the other cassette, and with a snarl, the much bigger mech transformed into his Cybertronian jet mode before going straight up through the ceiling. Crosswire leapt instinctively, managing to catch the smallest amount of metal under her servo as the mech jetted up into the sky.

**::We are so slagged.:: **Saberline cackled.


	4. Chapter 4

**::Comm-link::**

"_Cybertronian"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

Crosswire knew that she wasn't going to make the duration of the flight to wherever Megatron was flying. It was blatantly obvious by the fact that her claws were rapidly slipping from the metal under them. She could see the ground, swiftly moving away from her, and ground her denta, knowing the choice she had to make wasn't an easy one.

**::Saberline, I'll see you soon.:: **she promised, unable to see where the other cassette was hiding.

**::What?:: **Saberline retorted, just as the femme let go of the metal wing of the jet she was holding onto and plummeting back down to earth. **::Why?::**

She only had seconds to brace herself for impact, and then she hit the smooth stone wall that sloped gently to the base below. Crosswire could feel pieces of her armor chipping and denting from the speed she was travelling, but at the moment she could care less. There was something that she'd picked up on her sensors on the way to Megatron, and she had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what it was.

**::Because there's a pest that needs to be terminated.:: **she replied.

**-;-**

The tunnels were nearly empty as she sprinted down them, feeling the rush of energon flowing through her lines. Crosswire felt the pinging in the back of her processor growing louder. She was getting close.

Twisting around another corner, she knew she was correct in assuming that she and Saberline weren't the only two cassettes on this planet.

"_Hello again, Frenzy."_

Frenzy twisted, optics widening at seeing the femme cassette before narrowing into tiny slits. _"Crosswire."_

"_I do recall you once taking my shin struts and trying to impale me with them." _Crosswire hummed casually, raising an optic ridge. _"Perhaps it's time I repay the favor."_

The other cassette snarled, several throwing blades appearing to his servos.

"_I will offline you permanently this time, femme."_

"_Good luck." _Crosswire crouched, baring her denta. _"I've been experimented on for vorns, and you think you could possibly stand up to all the frustration and anger that I haven't been able to vent out on something?"_

Frenzy paused for only a moment before lunging. _"I know I can."_

**-;-**

"How do we get the signal out? How do we call the air force?" Glenn panicked, looking over the mess of dusty wire splayed out before him. He'd been doing so for the last ten seconds, give or take, considering that he'd been sat down with barely a word in edgewise.

"Glenn?" Maggie snapped her fingers to gain the dark skinned man's attention. Her own eyes were fixed on a computer monitor that was definitely not up to date on the latest technology.

"Huh?" Glenn's voice had a slightly hysterical edge to it as he glanced over his shoulder to his blond companion.

"Can you hotwire this computer to transmit a tone through the radio?" Maggie asked, gesturing with one hand to emphasize her point.

"What good is that?"

"Morse code! You can use it to transmit it through that!" Maggie continued, pointing once again at the machine that Glenn was seated at.

"Okay I'll do it!"

Clambering up from his seat, he rushed over to stand next to Maggie, a slightly doubtful look on his face as he did so.

"Turn it around." He muttered, half to himself and half to Maggie. "Okay, uh, let's see…Simmons! I need a screwdriver!" he hollered before going back to examining the back of the monitor.

It took several minutes, but Glenn managed to move the wires and various other machine guts around to work with, and he was just about finished when the doors to the room shuddered.

"What the hell was that?" Simmons paused in lifting a wire up for Glenn to see. Maggie's head poked up from underneath the desk she was working with Glenn under, her eyes wide.

There was a grunt, and then another force rocked the door inwards. Simmons leapt down from his perch, eyes not leaving the door.

"Barricade the door!"

The group lunged towards the door, minus Glenn, to keep it from moving inwards again. The metal, although strong, was old, and there was the possibility of the hinges giving under the weight of whatever was trying to get in.

Maggie shoved a desk over, and Simmons helped shove it firmly against the doors, from which there was some kind of panicked chittering.

Actually, there were two different sets of the chittering. There was the lower set, and then there was the higher pitched chittering, and at the moment, the higher pitched chittering sounded more enraged than anything else.

"Five, four, six three…" Glenn muttered to himself, not daring to look over at the door. His fingers flew over the keys on the computer keyboard, fueled by his fear.

Guns were distributed, and then there were several shots fired through the gap in the door as it continued to rock.

"I got it!" Glenn suddenly yelled, looking over his shoulder. The Secretary of Defense moved away from the door, leaving Maggie and Simmons to hold off whatever was out there on their own, calling out his instructions as he did so.

No one quite realized that the forces outside weren't trying to get in.

**-;-**

"_You slagging little coward!" _Crosswire roared. "_Get back here!"_

Frenzy darted just out of reach of the enraged femme, his shoulder strut badly damaged from being thrown into the doors. Energon slid off of the metal dripping onto the cement below their pedes with a steady beat. He was cunning. He could easily take this femme on if she weren't so strong. Both of them were at their peak, and the mech knew that he was well and slagged if she managed to corner him.

Chancing a quick glance, Frenzy leapt up, clambering along the wall and up into the air vents, where he knew he at least had a chance at survival.

Crosswire followed, her wrist blades out and at the ready. She hated this little fragger almost as much as she hated the organics and Megatron, so in her opinion, Frenzy was going to go through as much pain as she could physically inflict before offlining him.

"_Cowards live, stupid femme!" _Frenzy spat back, clambering along the shafts, not quite realizing that there were also organics below waiting for any sign of them so that they could pepper the cassette full of bullets until the first round rang off of his armor.

"This is so not good." Crosswire vaguely heard from below them. She allowed herself a feral grin. No, it wasn't good. Not at all.

But that was what made it so much fun.

**-;-**

Simmons and the Secretary reloaded the shotguns in their possession before taking aim at the vents again. The chittering was louder, and Simmons swore he heard several English curses that would have made his mother cry mixed in with the sounds coming from the vents.

As if on unspoken command, both men took aim at a corner of the vent and let bullets fly. As they connected, the metal tore, and out tumbled two silver frames. Crosswire was on top of Frenzy, claws ripping at the more delicate armor she knew from experience he had there. He screamed, returning the favor by tearing one of his throwing blades across her visor, which didn't actually cause all that much damage, other than some scratches.

But that didn't mean he would stop there. Viciously, he tore into her side, blade immediately drawing a steady amount of energon as they rolled on top of the vents. She yowled, claws going for the throat, but Frenzy's weight was too much for the corner of the vent to handle. Slowly, it gave way under the cassettes, tilting them both into empty air.

Crosswire favored not falling to the floor, however, and clung on to the side of another vent as she allowed Frenzy to fall with a screech. Almost immediately, bullets were flying, and Crosswire felt her optics narrow as she recognized the same Seymour Simmons responsible for her containment.

She would get him later, however. At the moment there were more important things to be concerned about. Such as Frenzy. She had a much longer grudge with the other cassette than she did with Simmons. She could wait just a little longer before she went after that man.

Frenzy darted behind one of the stone pillars that supported the frame of the ceiling, and Crosswire nearly shivered with joy. Although she was an espionage femme, she lusted for this grudge, fed on the anger and hate that it gave her, knowing that all she wanted right now was to spill more energon.

She leapt, ignoring the sudden barrage of bullets sent her way, knowing that they weren't strong enough to get through her armor. She knew her armor better than most, considering that her missions usually revolved around smaller details and the like.

"_Come out from behind that pillar, Frenzy." _She cooed. _"I'll make sure that all your pain goes away quickly…"_

Frenzy popped his head out to throw one of his blades at her helm. Easily, she dodged, continuing to advance on the mech. Sure, she knew he could damage her, but it was better than the alternative.

Pouncing, she collided with the support, spinning around and managing to knock frenzy off his pedes with a blow to the helm. Shakily, the other cassette stood again.

"_You lie, femme. I know you. You cause hurt because of grudge." _Frenzy growled back.

Crosswire tilted her helm to one side, knowing exactly the effect that it would have on Frenzy. She didn't care. She was this close to him now. She could easily snuff out the light of his spark.

However, before she could do so, a throwing blade caught the femme in the side of her helm. Immediate static flared from the audial that he had managed to take out, and she snarled. Before she could actually take a step towards him, however, the same throwing blade looped around and took off his own head.

"Oh shit." The cassette groaned before the headless body went down.

Oh shit, indeed. Crosswire thought to herself as she took in the rather hostile stances of the organics around her.

**-;-**

Saberline knew the frame of a Cybertronian better than most. Especially while a Cybertronian was in alt-mode.

Because of this, the cassette knew exactly where her target was.

She clambered into the inner workings of Megatron's alt-mode, taking great care to make as little noise and cause as little pain as possible. She wanted to make sure that he didn't know where she was intending to go.

Crosswire hadn't been able to hold on, Saberline now realized. But as to why she would choose to let go was something that was mystifying to the aggressive femme. The only thing that was back at that house of horrors was the organics. And Saberline knew that although Crosswire hated the organics for what they'd done, she probably wouldn't offline them simply because that wasn't in her programming. Unless, of course, there was a certain organic involved that she was fairly certain hadn't left or offlined already…

She bared her energon and bloodstained denta in a grin. Battle was definitely something she had missed over the vorns. There was nothing quite like it.

But what she didn't actually like all that much at the moment was the fact that she knew as soon as the large mech landed, he would be trying to squish her. That, she was not looking forward to. The only thing she had to be grateful for was her much smaller size, so she could worm her way into his inner workings and keep him from actually managing to do much damage to her, if any.

Saberline felt the sudden slowing of the mech around her, and she tensed. This was it. She knew that this was it.

"_Showtime."_ she sang to herself, just as a shudder ran through the metal around her.

She latched onto the nearest jagged edge of metal, knowing that it was about to become part of Megatron's leg, bracing herself.

It never did get any easier, feeling as though she would never figure out which way was up and which way was down. But it soon ended, and the cassette was hunched in the former Lord Protector's left leg. Right above his shin strut, if her guessing was correct.

If there was one thing that Saberline was good at, it was pissing off mechs in the most painful ways possible.

Burrowing her way into several wires, the femme hummed a cheery tune to herself and got to work, gnawing away at the wires like a glitch mouse.

She could hear snarled curses directed at her in Cybertronian, most of them involving her femme Creator.

Poking her helm out of his leg for several moments, she stared at the mech in the optic. "_For your information, glitch-head, I had two mech Creators. So there!" _

Saberline retreated just as a blade soared over where her helm would have been, grinning to herself as she got back to work on gnawing wires.

It was good to be back.

**-;-**

"Fall back!" Lennox yelled at his soldiers as the shouts from Ratchet and Ironhide carried through the air.

Ironhide took a blow to the chassis that would have been otherwise devastating, but there appeared to be something wrong with the much larger Decepticon. Something was sparking in his leg, and there was a heavy amount of energon leaking from several torn wires that looked suspiciously as though they had been gnawed on.

Soldiers moved around the streets, evacuating the remaining people out of their vehicles and pulling the wounded out of the street.

Bumblebee and Sam were situated just out of harm's way for the moment, Sam still looking as though he were in shock from the events so far, while the other Autobots moved around them in rehearsed movements.

Above, Megatron soared, a struggling Jazz held in his claws and a cassette continuing to attack his wires and energon lines in his frame.

"Come here, cretin." Megatron rumbled as he removed his foot off of Jazz's chest plates and dangled him off of the edge of the building. Jazz twisted, shooting several rounds off at point-blank, which managed to cause some damage, but not enough.

"You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me?" Jazz demanded, even as Megatron slowly maneuvered him between his servos. The smaller mech struggled, though there really wasn't a lot he could do about the situation himself.

"No: I want two!" Megatron snarled, just as a sickening snap of something in the large mechs frame caught his attention. The pull that was placed on the smaller mech was too great, however, and a moment later Jazz's right shoulder and leg, followed by several other pieces to connect them to the frame.

Dropping the saboteur with a howl, he turned his attention to the small cassette that was currently cackling victoriously from his leg.

"_Hi! Looking for something?" _Saberline waved cheerily, something large clamped between her smaller jaws. _"I've got your interfacing parts~!"_

Megatron moved to swat at the femme, but despite the fact that she was carrying his interfacing parts, she was still very quick. She tucked her head back into his leg for several moments before reappearing, and he struck.

He landed a blow with his palm, knocking the vicious femme loose, and then swatted at her again for good measure. Dazed, Saberline fell from the building, the interfacing parts the furthest thing from her mind at that moment.

Flipping herself so that she was then falling towards the ground with her belly down, she narrowed her optics behind her visor, getting ready for the collision. Seconds later, she landed on all fours, the cement around her now a small crater. The interfacing parts fell neatly right into her servo a moment later.

"_Ha. Told you I'd get your interfacing parts." _She muttered to herself before sub spacing said interfacing parts and turning her attention to the rest of the battle.

"Sir! That tank thing's getting back up!"

Saberline's helm snapped in the direction that the voice came from, and she took off.

"Ugh. These things just don't die."

Well, she couldn't exactly disagree with that one. Cybertronian frames were made to withstand a ton of pressure, and even here on Earth it wasn't an exception. The only difference was that these weapons that she had seen so far were very similar to the ones back on Cybertron.

The sound of some kind of aircraft caught Saberline's attention, and she smirked as she finally made it out of the alley that she had been in. There were two targets here. Two wonderfully large and challenging opponents that she could blow to bits all she liked and not get scolded for.

"Oh, we're so dead." The voice came again.

She straightened herself up and sauntered over to where the organic male was standing. Sure, she didn't like organics, but these ones weren't responsible for what had happened to her and Crosswire. Those particular organics were very dead. Accessing her new language download, the femme replied to the statement.

"Actually, I believe I can help you with that." She supplied helpfully, not raising her voice or her visor. The organic turned, gun ready, but Saberline raised her servos. "Don't worry, I'm an Autobot. I'm just here to blow shit up."

"Then go."

"Yes sir!" Saberline cackled, turning her attention to the mech that she actually recognized.

"Sam! Where's the Cube?" the organic ran off, waving to another organic that Saberline recognized from Sector Seven.

Ah, who cared? There were things to blow up!

With far too much cheer, Saberline onlined her cannons, very glad to feel their warmth through her armor again.

"_Hey! Devastator! Look over here!" _she bellowed.

Around her, she could hear the other organics yelling at one another to fire at the mech she was currently focused on, and they did so with gusto.

Looking down her cannons, Saberline fired, grinning when she noted that all of her blows were doing a great deal of damage to the mech. However, it wasn't really stopping him from advancing on the organics.

"_I recognize you, you great slagheap!" _Saberline baited. _"You're that mech who always has to get rusty parts for your repairs!" _

Devastator glared at the cassette, and then all of his attention was on her. Just the way she liked it. Charging, the femme dove for Devastator's legs. She still had several tricks that she wanted to use, and all of them were extremely destructive. Just the way she liked it.

Letting out a war cry, she burrowed into Devastator's leg, immediately getting to work by firing off her cannons. Those did a very thorough job in blowing the mechs leg to pieces and efficiently managing to cripple him enough so that she could leap into the next position and plant a rather interesting looking piece of machine under several layers of plating.

"_Say hello to everyone for me in the Pit." _She waved before darting off, waving all the organics back just as the bomb detonated. Pieces of metal flew in all directions, along with a rather spectacular explosion that caused a cloud to spurt up into the sky, a pillar of black smoke.

"_EXPLOSIONS!" _Saberline cheered.

Before she could do much else, a glimpse of blue and red caught her eye, and she turned to get a better look.

"Well, if it isn't the Prime."She shuttered her optics. "Ah, who cares? There's still another Decepticon to blow up!"

Well, actually, there was still Megatron, judging by the sounds coming from another direction. Longingly, she looked that way. She still had an entire list of things that she was going to do to that slagger for getting her into this mess in the first place!

She started off at a sprint, her legs carrying her easily through the few organics still running away from all of the chaos, shouldering aside several that weren't intelligent enough to move out of the way on their own.

She could see the organic mech that was currently in possession of the Allspark clambering up to the top of a white building, and she snarled. These organics were fools if they thought they would be keeping the Allspark safe while in organic servos!

Vaulting the fence that was probably meant to keep things out, Saberline attached herself to the wall and began climbing, fully aware of the large mech within the building.

"Watch out!" she heard the organic scream. Grinding her denta, the femme dug in her legs and thrust herself forward in a leap, powering herself faster up the side of the building. This was one of the reasons why she thought the organics shouldn't have the Allspark. If the Decepticons wanted it, all they had to do was fire at will and they were offline.

Hissing, she ducked as one of the flying machines passed right by her head, fire spurting from its pathetically weak frame.

Hauling herself up and over to the top of the building, she was just in time to see Megatron explode out from within the building.

"Is it fear or courage that compels you, fleshling?" Megatron asked calmly. Saberline glanced at the surrounding buildings. There was Starscream, the coward. No wonder the helicopter, as she recalled its designation, had crashed.

"Give me the Allspark, and you will live to be my pet."

Saberline couldn't help but snort, making herself known to the large mech. "Well, I don't about you, but I rely on sheer stupidity with just a little bit of crazy. And by the way, I got your interfacing parts~!"

Megatron snarled. "You again, runt."

"Hey now! I ain't a runt! I'm tiny, but I managed to get your interfacing parts!" Saberline protested with a scowl. Quickly, she analyzed the situation. She knew the Prime was on his way, so all she really had to do was keep Megatron distracted.

Before she quite knew what she was doing herself, Saberline leapt straight at Megatron's faceplates, hissing and biting whatever managed to get in her way. Her claws hooked under an optic, and with a truly maniacal grin, she tore it from the socket.

Megatron howled, stumbling right into the statue that the organic was clinging to.

"Slag. That backfired." Saberline mused as the building crumbled under the weight, sending her tumbling down right after the organic as Megatron batted her away.

Luckily, Optimus Prime was there to break her fall. Maybe not so luckily was the fact that she landed on his faceplates.

"Optimus Prime, sir! Autobot Saberline delivering the Allspark as ordered!" she grinned brightly.

"Hold onto the Cube!" Optimus grunted instead. Saberline automatically latched onto the organic mech, Sam, and made sure that the Allspark wasn't going to go anywhere as the Prime let go of his position between the two buildings and sent himself flying down towards the ground. Megatron followed close behind, surprisingly alert considering that he was missing an optic, one of his legs was fragged and his interfacing parts were missing.

"Free fall!" Saberline crowed. However, she cursed a moment later when Megatron slammed into Optimus, sending them all tumbling to the ground in a rather painful pile of metal and Allspark and organic.

"Let's do it again!" she whooped as soon as she recovered from the collision. She chose to ignore Megatron for the moment, considering that the Prime was now here to deal with it himself. Saberline couldn't help but preen as she looked at her handiwork, however.

"Sam. You risked your life to protect the cube."

"No sacrifice, no victory."

Saberline honestly wondered what went through these organics minds at something like this, but then decided she didn't really want to know.

"If I cannot defeat Megatron, you must push the Cube into my chest. I will sacrifice myself to destroy it." Optimus ordered both the organic and Saberline. Said femme nodded. It was an order, whether she liked it or not, and orders were meant to be carried out.

Saberline grabbed a hold of the organic and slung him over her shoulder, making for a quick retreat as Megatron stirred. This was no longer her fight, though she really did wish that it still was.

"It's you and me, Megatron." Optimus intoned, climbing slowly to his pedes.

"No, it's just me, Prime." Megatron retorted as he got to his own pedes.

"At the end of this day, one shall stand and one shall fall." Optimus stated calmly before the two mechs lunged at one another. Saberline shoved the organic down into a crevice before he could get stepped on and jumped in after him, making sure that she could still keep an eye on the battling Cybertronians.

"You still fight for the weak!" Megatron sneered as he tossed Optimus down onto the ground. "It is why you lose!"

Saberline shifted, looking out of the hole with narrowed optics. There wasn't any signs of trouble coming directly at her, but there was a mech heading towards her Prime. That counted as a declaration of war, right?

"Stay here, don't make a sound, and don't get stepped on." She snapped at Sam before clambering up and out. Sub-spacing her throwing blades, she eyed up the new Decepticon, taking great care in analyzing his weapons. One of his servos was a spinning blade of death, for Primus' sake!

But there was the organic to think about too, slaggit. And the Prime would no doubt have her helm if she didn't keep the organic safe.

Optimus and Megatron were nearly full out brawling at that point, Megatron using some kind of club with a chain to send the Prime flying into nearby buildings and not giving him a chance to stand.

And Saberline really didn't feel like losing the Prime so soon after finding him again.

However, before she could do anything, she realized that the organic was no longer in the hole she had told him to stay in. No, he was currently crawling along the ground _right fragging next to the two mechs battling it out. _

And two…well, there were suddenly a very large amount of explosions rocking the ground and the remaining two Decepticons. Saberline couldn't help but bark out a laugh at seeing Megatron's face as two missiles nailed him in the chassis.

And yet, it wasn't enough to keep the slagging leader of Decepticons down. Instead, he stumbled towards the moronic organic with the Allspark. Onlining her cannons automatically, Saberline ignored the idle chit-chat that the three mechs of varying species were having and focused on hitting the shoulder struts of Megatron. It had a chance of keeping the aft down for a while longer so that somebot could actually finish him off.

And something did finish Megatron off.

Sam pushed the Allspark in Megatron's chest. Of course. But it did have the desired effect, whatever that happened to be. A giant gaping hole appeared in his chassis, and with an animalistic howl, Megatron toppled to the ground, barely moving.

There were other Autobots moving in now, Autobots that Saberline didn't recognize.

"Sam, I owe you my life." Optimus acknowledged. "We are in your debt."

Saberline felt the urge to protest against that, considering that she'd told him to sit and stay and be good, but noooo. He gets told that he did good for disobeying orders!

So. Not. Fair.

A truck pulled up, Bumblebee still strapped on to the back of it, and another organic popped out of the cab.

Saberline took the pause to continue looking around the mechs surrounding her. There was a green one and a black one, and the silver one that had a couple limbs torn off…Hey, that was Ratchet!

"Prime. We made it just in time." The black mech said, offering out the torn and limp frame of the silver mech.

"Oh, Jazz." Optimus replied with something akin to affectionate amusement as he held the much smaller form in his servos.

Saberline found it a rather good time to introduce herself to the rest of the audience, considering that she was so small and all.

"Autobot Saberline reporting for duty, Prime." She saluted seriously, the first in many vorns. "Autobot Crosswire is also online and is currently at the Sector Seven headquarters. Mission accomplished. Allspark coordinates delivered, in a roundabout way."

"Autobot Saberline?" Ratchet blinked. "The same Saberline who tore apart my Med Bay as a sparkling Saberline?"

"The very same, Doc." She flashed a cheeky smirk his way. "Why? Did you miss me?"

"No."

"Liar."

She felt her Carrier/Cassette programming scan the surrounding Autobots then, and numbers began scrolling across her HUD.

**Compatibility statistics- 34%**

**Unsuitable Carrier.**

**Compatibility statistics- 69%**

**Unsuitable Carrier.**

**Compatibility statistics- 11%**

**Unsuitable Carrier.**

**Compatibility statistics- 19%**

**Unsuitable Carrier.**

**Compatibility statistics- 73%**

**Suitable Carrier.**

**Activate Carrier/Cassette program download?**

She turned, optics suddenly blank as she activated the program download, and lunged for the signal of the suitable Carrier. Ignoring the surprised yelps, Saberline burrowed into the warm indent that was the best choice in homes and settled herself in, feeling the new connection establish.

Disconnecting again, she landed, only to be caught up in rough servos.

"What the frag did you just do?" the mech bellowed at her.

Saberline merely shuttered her optics and vented heavily.

"I'm a cassette." She started slowly, speaking as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Therefore, I need a Carrier. Now, I left Cybertron a very long time ago to hunt after Megatron- hey, that reminds me!" she smacked a clenched servo against her palm. Sub-spacing the interface parts, she laid them at the pede of her new Carrier proudly.

"I got his interfacing parts~!"

**-;-**

_With the Allspark gone, we cannot return life to our planet._

_And fate has yielded its reward; a new world to call home._

_We live among its people now, hiding in plain sight, but watching over them in secret._

_Waiting. Protecting._

_I have witnessed their capacity for courage, and although we are worlds apart, like us, there's more to them than meets the eye._

_I am Optimus Prime, and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars._

_We are here. We are waiting._


	5. Chapter 5

**::Comm-link::**

"_Cybertronian"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

Saberline was not pleased.

Not. One. Bit.

A scowl on her faceplates, the feline cassette thought on what the human, Simmons, had done to Crosswire while she'd been protecting his stupid squishy aft.

There really hadn't been any say in whether or not the Autobots were going to go back to the former Sector Seven base. Saberline had by far been the most adamant in her refusal, and Ironhide had surprisingly enough, stuck up for her. The cassette had a feeling it was because the large Weapons Specialist could feel her fear at going back there. Sure, she had been angry, but all of that rage had been channeled into killing all of the organics responsible for her fear.

She had been sorely tempted to kill one more at seeing Crosswire leaking energon all over the floor of her prison, which was basically just a large box. There was barely enough room for the damaged femme to move, let alone prevent any further damages from occurring if the humans decided to continue experimenting.

However, Ratchet had beat her to it, and quite spectacularly if she did say so herself. With a loud growl, the Medic plucked the box off of the floor and tilted out the cassette out into his palm, scanning her with efficiency before snapping at Prime in Cybertronian the damage.

This, in turn, caused the Prime to become just a little more hostile to Simmons, and Ironhide was simply pissed because he could feel the emotions rolling off of Saberline. So, really, there weren't a lot of good things going on, if you added on the other two injured Autobots and several worried humans concerned for the health of one of said Autobots.

This had led to Saberline retreating as far as she possibly could from the new temporary headquarters for the Autobots, in a forest several miles away from the Pit-spawned hell hole, lodged up in a tightly knit group of trees. If anybot or anything came looking for her, it would mean that they would have to remain in their alt-modes, unless it happened to be Crosswire or that smaller looking mech that had been dragged back from Mission City. Jazz, she was sure his designation was.

Venting, the warrior femme curled herself on a branch, not unlike these felines that she had already discovered on the 'World Wide Web'. They weren't all that different from her, really. But those were thoughts that could be shoved off to one side for later, when she didn't have a comrade to be concerned about.

Although Saberline was a tough-as-nails femme, she wasn't always so hardened to the world around her. When she was alone, or on the rare occasion that Crosswire had managed to get her to open up, she was merely another Cybertronian wanting this war to end. A Cybertronian with a mild glitch in the processor, but that wasn't really the point.

"I know you're up there, femme-ling."

Saberline snorted dryly, barely even flinching as she looked over the edge of her branch with disdain. There wasn't any point in trying to hide her thoughts from this mech. Whether she liked it or not, he was the most compatible as a Carrier, and in order to remain online and functioning, it had been necessary to sync with him. It didn't, however, mean that she had to like it.

"What do you want?" she sniffed, going back to leaning her chin back down on her forelegs. Her amber optics narrowed as the black truck below shifted on its axles.

"Supposed to bring you back to base."

"Not happening."

"You don't really have much choice in the matter."

Saberline vented heavily, restraining herself, reminding herself that this moron didn't know anything about being a Carrier. Leaning back over the branch, she let him have it.

"Okay, newsflash for you, glitch head. I have plenty of choice in the matter, despite what you might think. I'm a cassette. You're my new host. I've been on my own for vorns. Therefore, it isn't necessary for me to sync back up with you. However, on the off chance that I'm feeling generous, I may sync with you to keep you company. Oh, and let's not forget- I found out that my former host is offline, the Allspark is on Earth, watched said relic get destroyed in front of me by a slagging organic and also have a slagging lot of other thoughts to deal with now that I have to figure out the encryption codes for this new bond. And as the fragging cherry on top, the only way I'm going back to that fragging house of horrors is if one: Crosswire personally drags me back, two: If Crosswire needs me, or three: Over my dead frame. There you have it, take it or leave it."

Ironhide looked rather shocked that a cassette would have the bearings to say something like that to him, especially since said cassette also happened to be a femme. But he also had orders from the Prime, and there wasn't a lot that he could do about the matter. Even though that new corner in the back of his processor was teeming with new emotions and vague thoughts that weren't his own.

"Look. Femme, I get you don't want to go back-"

"Understatement of the fragging millennia." Saberline muttered to herself.

"-but I don't have a say in this. The Prime ordered it."

"Ooh. The Prime ordered something. Since when are you so scared of the Prime, Ironhide?"

Ironhide shuttered his optics. How had the femme managed to pick up on his designation when he didn't even know hers?

Saberline caught the last part of the mechs thought process easily, considering that she was much more used to this ingrained comm-link than he obviously was.

"And my designation's Saberline. Not femme-ling or femme or whatever you can come up with."

"…Saberline, get out of the tree."

"Using my designation isn't going to work, host."

"…Slag."

**-;-**

Crosswire onlined to find her scanners pinging at her.

**Scans complete.**

**Compatibility statistics- 89%**

**Recommended Carrier.**

Shuttering her optics again for several moments, the femme took the time to get her bearings back. She was laying on her back, and she was surrounded by other sparks. Therefore, she had to be safe.

But her audials were ringing painfully, and her chassis felt like something very heavy had slammed into it repeatedly, so there was also the chance that she was dead.

**Scans complete.**

**Compatibility statistics- 89%**

**Recommended Carrier.**

The cassette dragged herself into a sitting position, honing in on the spark signal that her programming was telling her was compatible.

The Cybertronian that lay not too far away from her had to be a minibot, considering the smaller, more compact frame, but that wasn't actually the point. From her point of view, Crosswire could see that the silver mech was missing the right side of his frame and was in stasis.

A pang of sympathy hit the femme as she looked over the pitiful state of the mech, and yet at the same time, a pang of loneliness hit. Why, she wasn't sure, but Crosswire knew what she was going to do about it.

Quietly, she slunk off of the surface, which actually happened to be a metal slab, her pedes touching the ground with barely a sound. Cautiously, she swung her helm around, optics studying the cavern with startling accuracy, before darting over to the other mech and clambering onto his chassis and curling into a tiny ball. On contact, the Carrier/Cassette program began initiating between the two.

Soothed by the contact, Crosswire vaguely began purring at the heat coming from the spark chamber below her small form, and drifted off into recharge again.

**-;-**

After several more minutes of rather heated arguing on Ironhide's part, he'd nearly had enough of this femme. She was taunting him, frag it, and he didn't like it one bit.

Saberline on the other hand, was beginning to enjoy herself. This was a source of amusement, something to keep her mind off of the base that was waiting for her to willing step a pede back in it. Which was still not going to happen anytime soon, if at all, but that wasn't really the point.

"Femme, get your aft down here right now."

"No. You can't make me, either." Saberline stuck out her glossa for extra effect, smirking as she heard the threatening rev of the mechs engines.

"Want to bet?"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" she said as the familiar sound of a transforming Cybertronian came to her audials. A moment later, the femme looked into the rather unamused optics of the Weapons Specialist as he attempted to free himself from the tightly woven tree branches that were resisting his efforts with glee.

"Told you so." Saberline yawned as she rolled over and went back to dozing on the branch, a raging Ironhide busy trying to get rid of the cursed things that humans called trees.

**-;-**

Jazz onlined to the low sound of something purring and an ache in the back of his processor that he was sure he hadn't had previously. Nor did he have an arm and a leg on the right side of his frame, another issue that he would have to address in the next several minutes.

"Ah. You're online." Came the familiar rumble from Ratchet. "Could you kindly let your cassette know that you're fine so that we can remove her from you?"

"Ah don't have a-" the confused mech began, glancing down to the origin of the purring. Sure enough, a cassette femme was curled up right over his spark chamber, dark blue optics half shuttered as she continued to purr.

"You do now."

There was the slightest amount of mirth in that statement, and groggily, the saboteur tried to make sense of what was going on.

One. He had a cassette.

Two. He was missing half of his frame, give or take.

Three. He was severely confused.

Four. The cassette was really freaking adorable as she yawned.

Without much conscious effort on his part, Jazz lifted the remaining servo he did have and gently ran a finger down the cassette's spinal strut. The silver femme onlined one optic lazily, and she arched her back with a loud vent.

"Hey there." He greeted softly. "What's your designation, little lady?"

"Crosswire." Came the sleepy reply.

"Ah'm Jazz."

"I know. You're my host now. We have an ingrained link."

Jazz blinked. That was certainly unexpected. Quickly scanning over his processor and various communication links, he wasn't all that surprised to find that there was a new bond forged there, sitting innocently out of the way of his more important links. Tapping into it, the saboteur was hit with emotions and thoughts that weren't his own. They were soft, tentative, not blaring out for his attention and yet still making themselves known in less noticeable ways.

"Huh."

The dark blue optics fully onlined, and the cassette shot a quick glance over towards Ratchet. The armor on the back of her neck shifted, ruffling itself to make the tiny thing look more intimidating, and through the visor he realized she was wearing he could see that she was thoroughly displeased with the mech for some unknown reason.

"Easy, 'Wire. Doc's just making sure I'm not about to offline." He attempted to soothe, but a sharp glare was suddenly turned his way, making Jazz rethink his last statement.

"I am well aware of that." She sniffed. "But my programming requires me to ensure that you are safe before anything is allowed to be done to your frame, even if it is by a Medic."

Ratchet was beginning to look like he wanted nothing more than to crush the femme under his pede, and with a heavy vent Jazz realized that he would have to use his charm in order to weasel out of this one once all of this was over.

"Ah'm safe." He assured. "Ya did a very good job, too. But Doc really does need to get to his function."

Crosswire huffed, but moved out of the way so that Ratchet could finally approach the slab that the silver mech was laid on, not looking in the least bit amused.

"Don't push it, Medic." The cassette deadpanned as Ratchet sent her a motion that was probably supposed to be interpreted as a _shoo_. "I'm a cassette. _His_ cassette. Therefore, only he can tell me to frag off. Which is highly unlikely considering that at this moment in time I actually need to be near him so that the bond has time to solidify."

The Autobot CMO looked downright murderous.

"Then sync with him and stay there."

"Fine." Came the snappy reply before Crosswire gently crept along Jazz's chassis, helm tilted to one side as she examined the surface. Finally, she paused when she was near the spark chamber, at the shoulder joint. With a soft click, the femme folded herself into the space there with ease, and Jazz was suddenly connected with far more clarity to the cassette. First and foremost in her general thoughts was drowsiness, and that same drowsiness was currently beginning to rub off on the saboteur.

The last thing Jazz remembered was Ratchet's gentle servo moving along the damaged parts of his frame, and then he fell back into recharge.

**-;-**

"You're doing it wrong."

"Frag it! I already figured that one out, femme!" Ironhide snarled back to Saberline. The femme still hadn't moved from her branch, partly because she was so comfortable and partly because the view of Ironhide's face was far too amusing for her to miss.

"Well, if that's the way you're going to be, I retract my offer of helping you." Saberline shrugged. "It's not that much difference on my part either way. You're still going to be stuck, and I'm still going to be laughing at you."

The giant mech paused in his struggle against the trees, optics thoughtful. If he accepted help from this femme, she would no doubt hold that over him for as long as he could see. But, if he didn't, he was going to be stuck here for Primus knew how long, and then he would have to ask for help from somebot else, which would lead to a whole new level of embarrassing.

"Saberline.." Ironhide began, feeling so pitiful that he was sure if Chromia were witness to this she would raise an optic ridge at his behavior. "Please."

"There. Was that so hard?" Saberline cooed, moving into a standing position, amber optics taunting silently as she agilely leapt onto the larger mech and clambered up one of his arms to the branches that had ensnared him. With several quick snaps of her jaws, one of his arms was free, and the lithe femme made her way over to the other arm, managing to free that side even more quickly.

She looked rather at home there, as she perched on his forearm to free his helm from the pesky branches too. Like she belonged on his frame, even though the silver armor was something he never would have thought would collide so pleasantly with his own black.

"There."

He blinked, looking straight into the cheeky amber as Saberline stared at him for a long moment before snorting and crawling over his shoulder and immediately sinking in between the shoulder plating, where she knew the mech wouldn't be able to reach her.

"Goodnight, host." She mumbled fuzzily before dropping into recharge, leaving Ironhide to his own devices.

Ironhide shuttered his optics, more than a little confused.

What the frag just happened?


	6. Chapter 6

**::Comm-link::**

"_Cybertronian"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

Saberline was sulking. Ironhide could tell that much from the annoyance that roiled across the still tentative ingrained link in the back of his processor. Even though he couldn't quite grasp why from the miscellaneous curses mixed in with the annoyance, he had a pretty good idea.

**::Still sulking because I got you back to base?:: **he asked with some amusement.

**::Shut it, scraphead.:: **Saberline bit back, shifting in her new perch. Ironhide winced as her shifting caused one of the wires there to clench.

**::Can you at least not try to rip out my wiring while you move?::**

**::Oh, suck exhaust. It's not permanent. Your wiring will adapt.:: **the femme muttered, sarcasm evident in her tone. **::Primus. Considering you're one of the oldest Autobots, you're really not that bright if you don't even know the most basic concepts of cassettes.::**

**::It was never necessary, considering I was never compatible to be one.:: **the mech snorted, resting against a warmer part of a wall.

**::Until now.::**

Despite the fact that he couldn't stand his new parasite, Ironhide was just a little curious at how Saberline had actually been able to synchronise herself with his systems. After all, from what he remembered, a Cassette had to be compatible with a Cybertronian before it could sync up all the necessary data and frames. And if there was one thing the Weapons Specialist knew quite well, it was the fact that he was not compatible with very many Cybertronians. In all of his vorns of being online, the only other Cybertronian that he was compatible with was his sparkmate. Chromia was just as violent and energon thirsty as he was, if not more.

**::Are you actually compatible with me?:: **Ironhide asked. It truly was something that he wanted to know. Had the femme simply picked him because he had been closest to her on the battlefield?

**::Yep.:: **Saberline hummed, soaking up the heat that was radiating from the wall. It felt rather pleasant to be there at that moment. She was already feeling right at home again. She had a host, she had heat, Pit, she was even having an intelligent conversation!

**::To what extent?::**

**::73% compatability with you.:: **the cassette said vaguely, picking up on a spark signature coming their way. **::By the way, you're about to have company.::**

Ironhide was about to say that no, they weren't, when a spark signature blinked into his sensors.

**::Trust a Cassette when it comes to sensors, host. You might live a little longer.:: **Saberline snorted. **::Now, can you kindly move your aft so I can come out? I need to go get some solar recharge for my systems.::**

Ironhide did so, and Saberline disconnected, landing perfectly on all four limbs before stretching. "Thank you." She nodded. "If you need me, you'll know where to find me."

The Weapons Specialist was about to ask how he would know, but the arrival of Optimus broke him from that particular thought process. Saberline skirted around the Prime with a respectful nod before disappearing down the hall that the bulk of the mech concealed.

Optimus and Ironhide both watched her go, Optimus with an optic ridge raised. "You two seem to be connecting well."

"Appearances can be deceiving." Ironhide snorted. "She's a pain in the aft."

"If I recall correctly, you once thought that about Chromia as well."

"That was different." He replied reluctantly. Optimus gave him a knowing look, along with raising his optic ridge again.

"In what way?"

"Chromia was never that annoying. Violent, yes. Annoying? No."

"Whatever you say, old friend." Optimus shook his helm. "That aside, I came to bring an update of Jazz to you."

"How is the little slagger?"

"He was online for a short while earlier. Ratchet has been having a bit of difficulty however, considering that Cassette Crosswire has become his cassette. Likewise, she's being protective of her new host. She doesn't want our medic anywhere near Jazz without her permission."

Ironhide raised an optic ridge. "There's another one?"

Optimus nodded. "Yes. Crosswire and Saberline were the two cassettes I sent out after Megatron when he left Cybertron to seek out the Allspark. Their Carriers were among the first offlined in Praxus. If I recall correctly, there was also a sparkling involved."

"One of them was a Femme Creator?"

"It would appear that way, old friend." The Prime vented, heavy. "And then to be trapped here without any way to communicate with us.."

"You're being too harsh on yourself, Optimus." Ironhide broke in. "They knew what they were getting into when they were chosen for the mission. They took that risk."

"The losses this war has brought us are great, Ironhide."

Yes, they were. But Ironhide chose not to comment on that particular thought. It was clear that the Autobot leader was already beating himself up over things that he couldn't control. It wasn't his fault that the Decepticons were unpredictable, that they needed destruction and chaos compared to the more peaceful ways of the Autobots.

Instead, the Weapons Specialist laid a servo on his friend's shoulder, offering silent comfort rather than words.

**-;-**

Crosswire knew that Ratchet was highly unamused with her for continually getting in his way as he tried to repair Jazz, but she didn't particularly care. He was her new host, and her initial programming was still unstable. From experience, she knew that this made her more emotional than usual, but there really wasn't a lot that she could do about it other than await orders from her new Carrier and follow them word for word.

Yawning, the femme stretched and disconnected from Jazz, sensing instinctively that the mech was going to remain in a Medic induced stasis until further notice. Something that she wasn't exactly pleased with, but she knew at the moment it was the best thing for him. Losing an arm and a leg were pretty heavy injuries to take, after all. Especially considering all of the wiring damages that had been taken all down his side; Ratchet had been furious as he took note of everything he needed to replace.

She took note of the room that the CMO had taken to be his temporary Med Bay, hating the familiarity it had to her. This had been a room that she had been in only once, and that had been the way she wanted to keep it until now.

With a shudder, Crosswire forced the plating running down her spinal struts to flatten out again so that she wouldn't appear so threatening to the organics she could smell coming her way. No doubt that one particular organic, Samuel, coming in to check in on Bumblebee again. The scout in question was recharging over against a far wall, the half built frame for his new legs lying nearby.

From what the femme had heard, she didn't like Samuel too much after what he'd tried to get the youngling to do. Get up without any legs? They were Cybertronian, not Gods! They were susceptible to injury as much as the next organic species.

But there wasn't much she could do about him, considering that Bumblebee was his Guardian. If she so much as brushed a hair from his face, she would be at cannon point.

She still wasn't sure if she wanted to take that risk, but it was still an option.

Silently, Crosswire leapt at the wall, her claws digging into microscopic nicks, and hauled herself along easily. She wasn't really in the mood to have another size issue with these organics. Especially not if it involved Simmons. That mech was infuriating already now that they were on the 'same side'. He couldn't help but irritate her with all of his comments about how much smaller she was than the rest of the Autobots, to which she resisted the urge to blow his organic little brain out.

As they entered the room, she landed behind them and exited the room as if she'd walked by them, her helm held high.

She knew that Saberline was most likely out finding sunlight so that she could recharge her systems, as she was doing, because the last time that they'd done so had been around the same time.

**::Where are you?:: -Crosswire**

**::Away from Prime. Why? You need company?:: -Saberline**

**::It would be appreciated.:: -Crosswire**

**::I'm out getting some recharge. Sending coordinates now.:: -Saberline**

Crosswire accepted the file Saberline had sent and quickly accessed the data. It wasn't all too far that she would have to travel, either. As long as she didn't run into Ratchet, anyway; she was supposedly still recovering, and needed to stay in the Med Bay.

Like that was about to stop her. She was a grown femme. She knew her frame better than Ratchet. Sure, she was still a little sore around the two areas that Frenzy had damaged, but she was well on her way to being fine. There was, however, that fragging ringing in her audial that she knew she would probably have to get checked out later.

**::So, how is your new host?:: -Crosswire**

**::An aft. He doesn't even know about how his frame will adapt.:: **Saberline's tone held that usual note of impatience. **::Honestly. He's like a sparkling, always whining.::**

Crosswire let a small smile cross her faceplates as she continued down the hall, finding a shortcut in the form of the ventilation system. By her calculations, if she took the next one on the left, she could reduce the time it took to get to Saberline by one third.

**::It is partially understandable.:: **Crosswire replied as she clambered into the air vent that she wanted. **::Considering his nature, I wouldn't think that there have been many who have actually been compatible with him. Then again, this is you I'm talking about.::**

**::You know, he said something like that too.:: -Saberline**

Crosswire hummed something like an agreement as she clambered through the vent, her optics lighting up the way in an eerie blue from her visor. In the back of her processor, she could feel Jazz's consciousness stirring, but paid it no mind for the moment.

**::I think I like my Carrier already.:: **she admitted hesitantly. **::He's friendly enough, even without half of his limbs.::**

**::Good for you.:: **Saberline praised sourly. **::I still don't like mine. He tricked me into coming back here with him.::**

**::Something tells me that you were as much a part of that as he was.:: -Crosswire**

**::Maybe…:: -Saberline**

Crosswire laughed softly to herself, turning a corner and shuttering her optics for a moment to adjust herself to the sudden light before popping out the vent and clambering out into the sunlight. She couldn't quite make out where Saberline was hiding for another several moments, though.

**::I can tell you're up here. But where exactly?:: -Crosswire**

**::You should be right by me. Try moving over to the edge of the roof you're on.:: -Saberline**

Crosswire huffed, but did as she was told. It explained why she hadn't initially found the other femme; the edge of the building that Saberline was talking about blended seamlessly in with the rest of the roof. It would make a good hiding place, she nodded to herself. By the looks of things, the two cassettes were the first things to come up here in a long time.

"Nice to see you moving again." Saberline offered as a greeting before going back to laying on her back, chassis plates shifting so that the solar panels beneath could grasp at the sunlight.

"Nice to see you're as friendly as ever." Crosswire replied lightly, her faceplates twisting into a wry smirk as she seated herself next to Saberline. "I even escaped from the Med Bay to come recharge."

"Ooh, living a little dangerously for once, are we?" Saberline laughed, cracking open an amber optic for a moment. "You know you're going to be in slag when you get back, right?"

"Ratchet can suck my exhaust." Crosswire muttered. "I'm a grown femme, aren't I? I'm perfectly capable of knowing when I'm fine and when I'm not. And as far as I'm concerned, as long as I still have all my limbs and processing ability, I'm fine. Armor wounds aren't going to cause me any difficulty."

"Not yet they aren't. But you know how he can be- wait…no you don't."

Crosswire gave Saberline a dry look. "Yeah, I don't. I'm not the one who tore apart his Med Bay as a sparkling."

"I swear, it was a twenty time thing."

"Not just once."

"Nope. Things came in twenty."

"I see…"

"Mhm. Are we done talking now? I'm trying to recharge my systems here."

"You started it." Crosswire protested, though she was still smiling as she lay on her stomach and opened up her shoulder plating so that her own solar panels were exposed to the pleasant heat the sunlight was bringing.

**::Uhhh…femme? 'Wire?:: -Jazz**

**::Is there something you need?:: -Crosswire**

Before a reply could be sent, the sudden bellow of a mech echoed around them.

**::Doc's lookin' for ya.:: **


	7. Chapter 7

**::Comm-link::**

"_Cybertronian"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

After a very long and arduous lecture from Ratchet, most of which she ignored, Crosswire spent the next several hours hiding in her new nook on Jazz. Because it was right near his spark-chamber, the femme was quite content to fall into recharge. It was warm, and the sound of a spark near her audial was enough to make her purr. Plus, Jazz was running his servo down her spinal strut, and it felt like heaven.

Now, Saberline, on the other hand, was not one to actually listen to these sorts of lectures, and because Ironhide was in the Med Bay to finally get his repairs done from Mission City, Saberline decided that it was her mission to piss off Crosswire.

"Hey. Crosswire. Get up. I'm bored." The femme drawled, climbing onto Jazz's chassis and poking the oddly colored grey armor where she knew the other cassette was sleeping.

"No."

"Get up."

"No."

Jazz onlined his optics, wondering why there was suddenly more weight on his chest plates than he remembered. As he took note of Saberline, however, he simply shook his helm and shuttered his optics again. The cassette could do what she wanted as long as she didn't start prying at him. Then he would have to make an effort and do something. Until then, he was content to doze.

"OW! THAT SLAGGING HURT!"

"Well maybe if you weren't making such a fuss about it we could get this over with." Ratchet snapped as he yanked on another wire in the mechs shoulder. Ironhide hissed and swatted at the medic, only to receive a quick smack to the helm from a wrench.

"Crossswirrreeee."

"Frag off, Saberline. I'm trying to recharge."

"Come onnnn…there's nothing to do!" Saberline whined, sitting on her haunches and looking pitiful. "Hatchet's fixing up my host and I don't want to go anywhere near him while he's in a funk."

"I don't care. Frag off."

"No."

Saberline frowned, narrowing her optics as she tried to think of something that would get Crosswire off of her host. Other than actually trying to pry the femme out of her Carrier, which she knew had low survival rates in her favor, she couldn't actually really think of anything that could help her.

"Meecchhhhh.."

Jazz onlined one optic, staring at the bulkier cassette sitting on his chest plates.

"Is there somethin' Ah can help ya with, femme?" he drawled.

"Yeah. Make Crosswire get up." Saberline deadpanned. "I'm bored."

"Uh huh. Sorry, not gonna happen. We're rechargin'." Jazz replied calmly before reshuttering his optic. The femme could suck it up, for all he cared. He wasn't really in the mood to be giving orders to anybot, and besides, Crosswire's purring was really creating a pleasant pulse that soothed his spark.

"Ugh. I hate you all." Saberline muttered, throwing her servos up in the air before leaping off of Jazz to sulk in the nearest corner. It sure beat having to slink back over to the two bellowing mechs who were two of the Autobots 'finest'. Yeah, right. If the finest the Autobots had now consisted of a cranky old medic who'd had it out for Saberline the moment she'd been sparked and an even crankier old Weapons Specialist, this planet was well and truly slagged.

"Mhm." Crosswire hummed, not even bothering to disconnect from her host. It was good to see- well, hear at the moment, that Saberline was beginning to show signs of who she'd been before their mission. Now herself, on the other servo…she knew she was going to be having the human term 'nightmares' for a great number of orns. But at least she had a new host to get to know in order to keep her well distracted for a while at least.

A small brush against the back of her mind brought a brief moment of curiosity before retreating, and the small femme internally vented lightly.

**::Ya holdin' up there, 'Wire?:: **Jazz's distinct tone asked softly.

**::I could ask you the same thing, host.:: **Crosswire replied with just a little humor in her tone. **::After all, you're the one who lost one half of his frame.::**

**::This is nothin'. Ya should've seen the other mech.:: **he replied with an air of haughty amusement. **::Tha' partner of yours is a little hellion on the battlefield.::**

**::She **_**is**_** a warrior build.:: **Crosswire pointed out. **::And that's just the way she is.::**

**::You mean she's **_**always**_** like that?:: **Jazz asked in disbelief. Crosswire snorted, the sound causing her to shudder.

**::Maybe not always so violent, but yes.:: **

**::Sweet Primus, where's she been all these vorns? Coulda used her on the frontlines back on Cybertron.:: **Jazz whistled. Crosswire gave the equivalent of a shrug over the bond.

**::Being my back-up on missions?:: **she offered. It was true; back when they had initially been partnered, there hadn't been much for the cassette to do to help the Autobot cause. So, she had been sent on missions as back-up for her partner when Crosswire was sent out to gather intelligence.

**::And what, exactly, is your function, little lady?:: **

The femme had to disconnect from Jazz at that one. Careful of the fresh welds, she raised herself above the mechs faceplates.

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet?" she teased, tapping the tinted visor over her optics with a delicate claw. "I'm an espionage femme. With the occasional explosion, of course."

Jazz tilted his helm vaguely to one side, visor glinting lightly from the dull lighting above. A small smirk tugged at his lip-plates, and his servo came up to trap her against his chassis.

"Consider yoursel' caught, then."

With a sarcastic snort, Crosswire wriggled against the servo that was only lightly holding her down before settling in comfortably. She couldn't say that she minded all that much; it was necessary for her and her new host to establish a bond with one another, and on the plus side, Jazz was proving to be an easy mech to be around.

**::Can't say I mind.:: **she hummed, settling back down for recharge. As fun as all of her brief conversation had been, she was fully intent on returning back to recharge to rid herself of any lingering effects from her minor repairs.

"Neither can Ah." Jazz murmured before turning down his audials to avoid falling into recharge with the married couple bickering over by Saberline. Honestly. Ironhide should have sparkbonded with Ratchet instead of Chromia, the way they acted around one another.

**-;-**

"You're such a baby." Saberline taunted from Ironhide's shoulder, perched comfortably on her haunches as her servos lightly rested on his helm. "Honestly. It was a couple of wires and a few dents. Jazz is better behaved, and he's missing half his frame!"

A low rumble from her host had Saberline venting and shuttering her optics. Really? Of all the mechs she had to be compatible with, it had to be the least mature?

"Come on. It could have been worse, mech." Saberline muttered, patting Ironhide's audial. "Besides, Ratchet's the one who upgraded my frames. He's not that bad."

"Easy for you to say." The Weapons Specialist grumbled. "He wouldn't hurt a femme."

"Oh yes he would, and you know it. But I sat my aft down and got over the discomfort slagging quick, because otherwise I was stuck on back-up duty. And trust me, host. Back-up duty is all well and good when there's actually action, but it sucks exhaust pretty bad when all you're doing is waiting for your partner to come back from whatever hidey hole the 'Cons are holed up in." bit back the cassette. "Besides, Ratchet does the best he can. It's not his fault his patients are so rowdy and immature."

Ironhide wasn't entirely sure of what to process at the moment. He wasn't entirely sure because he could have sworn that he was just chewed out, and yet at the same time he was simply getting advised against taking measures against the warlord of the Med Bay in the future.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a nap. Wake me up if the world's ending."

Like Pit he would. The femme was a pain in his aft, and they both knew it. The difference between them was that she was purposefully beginning to frag him off now, sizing him up and learning the various triggers that would get the best reactions out of him for the future.

"I hate you."

"That's nice."


	8. Chapter 8

**::Comm-link::**

"_**Crosswire's programming"**_

"_Cybertronian"/"Disembodied voice"_

"_SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

She really didn't want to online.

Honest to Primus, she didn't.

She felt like scrap.

That, and she wasn't sure she could online her optics even if she tried.

Weakly, she spent Pit knew how long struggling to even shift in the position she was in, with little success.

**::'Wire?:: **Jazz's concerned tone flitted across the link. **::Ya doin' alright, little lady?::**

Crosswire grated out a whimper. At least, she hoped it was a whimper. Every single sensor and piece of her frame was either in pain or numb- about half and half, if she really wanted to go into detail about it.

**::Crosswire?:: **

She tried to reply, but everything in her processor was moving too slowly or too quickly for her to comprehend. Defeated, she simply lay there, actually wondering if she was offline and this was all some kind of twisted dream.

"_Doc? Somethin's wrong with 'Wire!" _

No frag. What had been the first clue?

"_Jazz, see if you can get her out of her compartment."_

**::'Wire? Little lady? Can you transform?:: **Jazz asked, tone balanced on calm.

**::No.:: **she finally managed to snap after several agonizingly long moments. The single word had taken nearly everything she still had in her energy reserves, and she felt her systems offline about the same time another tone reached her audials.

"_Hatchet! Something's wrong with the femme! She's screaming something about armor!"_

**-;-**

As far as Saberline was concerned, life was pretty good. Other than the continued curses thrown at her by her host, she was feeling pretty content.

Well, other than the fact that her host was currently dangling her upside down as he carried her off to the place she was nearly positive belonged to the evil Doc-bot. But even that couldn't really foul her brilliantly positive mood. She swung herself back and forth, feeling much like a pendulum as she did so, and latched onto one of Ironhide's fingers with her denta.

"OW! That _hurt_, you little fragger!"

She giggled, feeling for the…seventieth time that there was something wrong about all of this but not quite caring at the moment. She was having far too much fun fragging around with her host's processor. Which he was making all too easy, now that she paused in her maniacal gnawing of the mechs finger.

"Hatchet! Something's wrong with the femme! She's screaming something about armor!" Ironhide bellowed as he burst into the Med Bay. Saberline cackled insanely, releasing her jaws on the finger she was on and allowing herself to swing wildly about.

Ratchet barely glanced up as he sub-spaced a wrench and threw it at Ironhide. Saberline let out another cackle as she suddenly found herself freefalling through the air again, though she did stick the landing as she hit the ground, and she looked back up at her host with a positively evil grin on her faceplates.

"Hey host…_NO_ _ARMOR!"_ she screeched, ripping off her chest plates and simultaneously ditching the rest of her armor at the same time before leaping into the air with a war-cry. She'd never felt so free in her life! Why hadn't she done this sooner? It was so much fun!

Before she could really enjoy herself, however, she found a servo closing in on her frame faster than she would have liked. Growling, she turned, and as the nearest digit came close, latched onto it with her denta.

"See?" Ironhide was snapping, gesturing towards her, "She was fine when I went into recharge last night, and then I online to this!"

"Hmm…" Ratchet muttered as he twisted his servo around, examining the cassette currently gnawing away at his finger. "It would appear that both of the femmes have somehow managed to acquire viruses from somewhere."

"Great. More maintenance." The Weapons Specialist grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at the femme, who looked rather content to be chewing on the metal. "You don't suppose she's part Scraplet?"

"Probably just the virus that she has." Ratchet said vaguely, half to himself. "How odd that they have two entirely different viruses…I wonder what could have caused such an anomaly."

Ironhide paused in his rant, realizing that Ratchet was already worlds away and probably wasn't going to pay him any mind any longer. Saberline continued munching away on the servo she had been offered in a round-about way, not showing any signs of caring that her host was about to leave, nor any care that she was no longer wearing any of her armor.

"Just bring her back when she's fixed." The Weapons Specialist vented, shaking his helm as he turned to leave.

The things that were already happening with a Cassette…it was like having a sparkling all over again, except that these ones were permanently small.

**-;-**

Crosswire onlined again as soon as her data port was forcibly accessed, all of her battle protocols online and ready. Her wrist blades dug into the nearest surface out of sheer instinct, energon sliding down the metal as she stared down the irritated medic.

Now, there was one problem with this; said medic was still trying to get the data port open so he could access her processor, and by the looks of things, that wasn't about to happen. In fact, it was like a switch had been flicked in the femme. She was dead serious as her blades stabbed into the metal of Ratchet's forearm, waiting for the next move to be made.

Jazz looked surprised too, considering the speed that the cassette had disconnected and transformed. It wasn't normal for anybot to be behaving like this. Especially if it were a femme that was being dealt with.

**Threat detected: course of action?**

**Select course of action. **

**Defensive **

**Offensive**

**Course of action selected: Defensive. **

**Deactivate battle programming?**

**Battle programming: online. **

**Processing status: active. **

**Category of threat: minor. **

**Classification of threat to host: possible.**

**Threat detected: Defensive position selected. **

**Strategy: hold position. **

Jazz's processor swam with the sudden swarm of new data flowing into it, his firewalls having no effect whatsoever on the commands that flew by at astonishing speeds. Half of them were completely unfamiliar to him, considering that this was Cassette programming and the fact that Cassettes were nearly their own type of species altogether because of it.

"Uh…Doc? Ah don' think that's a good idea…" he offered to the medic. "There's some pretty high tech programmin' in tha' processor."

Ratchet stared at him like he'd grown another helm. "You can tell what state the programming is in?" he muttered in disbelief.

"Yep. It's a little confusin', but I can tell tha' the femme won't let ya near either of us." Jazz replied cheerily. "She's a little threatened at the momen'."

"Well, get her to go into a non-threatened state." Ratchet snapped, wincing as Crosswire's blades dug a little deeper.

"Uhh…Doc? Ah hate ta break it to ya, but this _is_ her non-threatened state."

"Fragging-"

"No cursing around the femmes, Doc." Jazz grinned, sensing an opportunity to utilize his sarcasm while he could. After all, it wasn't like he would be able to do much about it now that he had additional protection. Plus, he would probably be more occupied with dealing with the other cassette femme and Ironhide in the future and completely forget why he wanted to cause the saboteur in the first place.

Yeah, this could definitely play out to his advantage in the long run. He just had to wait until he had all of his limbs back and was back up to his usual A-game.

But there was still the situation with Crosswire's blades being in Ratchet's arm…

"Crosswire, stand down." He finally sighed, knowing that he would regret his decision later.

The silver femme paused for several seconds, her armor still bristling, visor hiding her optics from the two Autobots staring at her.

"_**Threat detected." **_The cassette stated tonelessly. _**"Defensive position selected."**_

"Crosswire. _Stand_. _Down_." Jazz snapped before he quite realized that he was doing so. That's an order from your Carrier."

"_**Manual override: voice recognition, complete. Orders: Stand down." **_Crosswire repeated before her blades retracted into her arms with audible clicks. That done, the femme stood there motionlessly, and Jazz picked up several other alerts pop up on the cassette's HUD before she collapsed.

"Well, tha' was fun." Jazz grinned cheekily.


	9. Chapter 9

**::Comm-link::**

_**"Crosswire's programming"**_

_"Cybertronian"/"Disembodied voice"_

_"SABERLINE YELLING IN ENGLISH"_

"English"

**-;-**

**::Do I want to know why I'm wearing no armor?:: -Saberline**

Crosswire felt her frame groan in protest as her optics onlined, her processor feeling as though she had been taken a blow with a heavy-duty war hammer at some point in the last orn.

**::Why do I feel like somebot hit me with a hammer?:: **she groaned back, shifting slightly. There was no recollection of what had caused her to feel like this, only the memory of settling down for recharge.

"Ah see you're feelin' better. Maybe." Jazz's amused tone thundered around her, causing her already throbbing processor to intensify in pulses. Whimpering, she curled in on herself, seeking out the heat of her new Host and nuzzling into it, not bothering to online her optics again. The light was hurting her anyway. It was almost like that one time that she'd gotten into the high-grade…

"Yeah, Ah can tell ya aren't doin' so well, femme." Jazz continued.

"Shhhhh…" Crosswire whispered. "My processor is currently attempting to offline me slowly and painfully."

"I imagine it would, considering the severity of the virus that was in there several hours ago." Ratchet growled, appearing from out of nowhere and causing the cassette to jump when his gentle servo picked her up from Jazz's chest plates.

"Virus?" she queried. No wonder she felt like slag! "What happened?"

"Your defensive programming took over."

The femme shuttered her optics for a long moment, sorting through the vague memory files until she found the ones she was looking for. Mind, they were heavily guarded and required a personal password, but she unlocked the encrypted files and flew through them with startling accuracy. Jazz watched it all from the small area that was now his own in the back of her processor, analyzing the Cassette's sheer speed and clinical thought processes with something not unlike admiration. Just from watching the short cycle she went through with that data told him all he needed to know about her skill level in that department. It was almost like seeing Prowl at work; if Prowl was a Cassette femme who also happened to be in the saboteur field of work.

"And nobot was injured?" she asked after onlining her optics again. There was a faintly guarded edge to her tone, and it wasn't lost on her new host. The mech carefully channelled a steady stream of comfort through their tentative bond, and it was then that Crosswire seemed to figure out that she wasn't the only one in her own processor.

Sending a quick side glance to Jazz, she leveled her gaze at Ratchet.

"How severe was the virus?"

Ratchet vented lightly before shrugging. "The best I can say for it is that it's because of the stress put onto your processor, including your emotional centre. Judging by your behavior, there was some kind of protective programming that kicked into high gear, with help from the virus that you managed to contract from whatever it was that gave it to you in the first place."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question. How severe was the virus that managed to get into my systems?" Crosswire folded her arms, optic ridges raising behind her visor.

"Ya _were_ tryin' to kill Doc over there, if tha' answers your question." Jazz supplied helpfully. "Ya did manage ta nick him with one of your blades, though."

Crosswire turned with a twisting expression. "I apologize, medic. Though I do know that it wasn't necessarily under my control, I still tried to bring you harm."

"No apologies are required. However, I would like to check on your processor now to see if the virus is still active or not." Ratchet replied with a slight tilt of the helm. "My last attempt was not one that I would like to repeat anytime soon."

"You attempted to sync with my data port while I had a potentially dangerous virus in my processor?" she asked incredulously, sending a quick look to Jazz while she was at it. The silver mech gave a one shoulder shrug, his missing limbs making him unable to do much else. "How much do you know about Cassette programming, exactly?"

Ratchet's armor prickled, jutting out slightly on his shoulders. "I know enough." He replied shortly, crossing his arms.

"Obviously not enough." Crosswire shot back. "Cassette programming is directly linked to all of our systems. Our emotional centres, instincts, battle protocols…you name it, it's related. When one specific part of our programming is out of balance, like mine probably was, it activates a highly sensitive defence protocol that is nearly impossible to deactivate. The only way for it to go back into the sleeper stage is for my host to manually deactivate it."

"Which Ah did." Jazz confirmed.

"So in other words, any Cassette with any sort of virus or processor imbalance can go through this phase?" Ratchet asked, his optics gleaming. Jazz could already tell that the mech was all aboard for learning as much new information as possible about the Cassettes available now.

"Yes." Crosswire nodded. "We're specifically designed so that if our systems fail, our hosts can still online us with an encrypted code or password, and only our hosts."

"That didn't seem to be the case with Saberline." Ratchet mused. "She must have contracted a different virus than you did."

"Most likely. Different frame types for Cassettes are more likely to get different viruses and frame difficulties. Since Saberline's frame is an offensive one, considering she's a frontliner, it would make more sense that if she were to get a virus it would affect her in a different manner since I'm a saboteur."

"I see.." Ratchet hummed, one servo rubbing the edge of his jaw lightly. "In that case, I should most likely go and check in on Ironhide and Saberline. Pit knows what the little slagger's gotten up to since last night when Ironhide brought her in."

Crosswire shuttered her optics and curled back up on Jazz's chest plating, revving her engine in some kind of confirmation as she offlined her pain receptors. Vaguely, she wondered why she even had the fragging things when all they did was bring unwanted data into her processor.

Before she could continue with those thoughts, a warm servo rested along her spinal column, a slight current running through the fingers running along her frame, and everything else that the femme was processing fled her as she arched into the touch with a croon.

Jazz chuckled lowly to himself as the cassette curled herself back into her new designated space on his chassis and quickly fell into recharge. There was something about this femme that reminded him of his own Creators. Of the home he'd lost. But he couldn't quite place how or why he felt like this. The bond that the pair of them had already managed to establish (going by the fact that Jazz had managed to snap her out of the slightly intimidating display of strength against Ratchet) was pulsing strongly in the back of the mech's processor, and there was a steady flow of data flowing and ebbing back and forth between himself and his new partner.

Either way, Jazz had a feeling that all Pit would break loose if Megatron ever showed his helm around Earth again. After seeing the pair of femmes and their respective offensive tactics, it was no wonder that they had been matched as partners. Even though their bond was much weaker emotionally, there was something fiercely disturbing of being able to see them both in action through the memory clips that Crosswire was currently (subconsciously?) sending him through their bond.

Yeah, there was definitely something disturbing about their teamwork, alright.

Too bad he didn't really give a frag.


End file.
